


Ex-Friends and Domestic Arrangements

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [27]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Alternate Timeline, Bottom!Nathan, Eavesdropping, Jealousy, M/M, Moving House, Moving In Together, Nathan has his flat, One-Sided Attraction, Regret, Sibling Relationship, Simon's mother does not approve, Some mention of the whole piss enema thing, parental homophobia, some mention of the whole arse power thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 07:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19224043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: Set late season three, after all previously posted fics.Matt comes home to find his mother very excited about what she's overheard from next door. Apparently Simon has a boyfriend-





	Ex-Friends and Domestic Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: For Simon's mother not being all too keen on the idea of Nathan and being unreasonable about it
> 
> Well here we are, the last completed fic in this series before the hiatus- though I'll post the fragments I have in the next couple of days- I have no idea if I'll come back to this series but I've really enjoyed writing it and have been so happy and flattered with the response I've gotten. As always please let me thank you for reading, for commenting, for leaving kudos- I can't begin to tell you how much I've appreciated it!

He’s not even finished calling out, ‘Hi mum,’ when she comes scurrying into the hall with a look of near rapturous delight on her face.

‘Simon’s got a boyfriend!’ she squawks out, carefully learned and practiced Received Pronunciation dissolving in the face of her excitement. ‘I heard Her-next-door and him going at it, her _shouting_ like I’ve never heard before— I wasn’t even in the yard. I was in the _kitchen_ and she’s just screaming at him. You should have been here. I almost can’t believe it myself—’

‘Oh,’ he replies, ‘A boyfriend.’ The slag from the loos?

She nods, little smirk playing around her mouth. ‘A _boyfriend_. Can you believe it?’ she asks, sounding like this is the best news she’s heard in months. ‘And, from what I overheard, whatever he is Her-next-door does not approve—’ she grabs his arm, ushering him to the kitchen— ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea, tell you all about it. What do you think?’

Even though he thinks he might just be sick he agrees, because he wants— no, _needs_ to know the details. 

She sits him around the kitchen table, cups of tea steaming away between them, and leans in, eager. ‘After— and this is _after_ mind— all her attempts to bargain with him to give up this lad and get a girlfriend— and she went through what must have been every girl the two of you ever even met, even your cousin _Daphne_ — and we both know what Her-next-door thinks of people with funny teeth— she started in demanding that if he’s going to be “an homosexual”’— she does a good imitation of Simon’s mum there— ‘then he should at least be dating someone with some prospects, not “some criminally minded little degenerate that he met doing community service. A _petty thief_ of all things—”’

‘Oh, so that’s where he met him.’

‘I think she’s got some nerve calling this other lad a _degenerate,_ considering it was _her_ son I caught pissing in our letterbox— after _trying to burn down our house,_ remember?’

‘So what did Simon say?’ he asks, kind of hoping his ex-friend agreed. It’s not like he wants Simon to be single, only—

Only he’s fucking kidding himself, isn’t he? He could just about bash his brains in on the fucking table top.

‘ _Simon refused,_ ’ she crows. ‘Didn’t matter what Her-next-door said, didn’t matter the threats and the shouting and the way she was going on about him being a bad son or any of it. He said he wasn’t giving up this lad. That they are actually _moving in together,_ ’ she wiggles her brows at him. ‘I suppose that’s why he’s been out so much, rarely home— and I know that’s been driving her mad. She never did like dealing with things she couldn’t control, did she? And now to have her own son— And the way he talked to her—’

‘He was rude?’ That’s funny. Simon’s rarely actually rude, that time he’d spotted the other man pacing around outside in the middle of the night and gotten the fingers aside— that had been a— a— _an anomaly._ Even when he and his mates had been— and he hates to think about it now. But Simon had just taken it all, maybe pointed out how unfair they were being in that obnoxiously sensible little voice of his— but he’d never been _rude_ about it. 

His mum shakes her head. ‘No. No, it wasn’t _rude_ — it was—’ her face scrunches up as she thinks for a minute. ‘He was determined. _Confident_ in a way I don’t think I’ve ever heard him being. Like he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t letting anyone change his mind—’

He frowns. ‘If he wasn’t being rude and shouting how do you know that, it’s not like you could hear from the kitchen—’

‘I might have gone out into the garden so I could hear better,’ she says with a wicked little smile. ‘I made sure I stayed out of sight— anyway, as I was saying. He told her he wasn’t going to leave this lad, that they’re in _love_ —’ he feels the words go through him. _Run him through_ is probably a more accurate way to put it. They hurt, those words. Hurt— but he can’t let his mum see— he doubts her delight at Simon’s turning out to be gay is going to extend to his complicated feelings about his old friend. ‘— that, as I said, they’ll be moving in together— they’ve got a flat, apparently, and the _lad_ paid for it. He’s got a job Simon said, so that puts the idea of him having no prospects to rest— or it should’ve if Her-next-door was more reasonable— Imagine that, Simon with a flat and a boyfriend with a job— anyway, after she has another go at him for falling in love with some boy he’s barely known for a few weeks and he said they’ve been together for more than four months now she really cracked the shits and said if he insists on moving out with this lad then she’s not going to be around to see it, he can come on the weekend when her and the girl will be out, and then she doesn’t want to see him or talk to him again until he’s come to his senses.’

‘Shit,’ he breathes out. ‘What did he say to that?’

‘He said that he was sorry she felt like that and he hoped she’d change her mind after thinking about it for a while— except he sounded right cold at the time. Cold and— you know what it was?’ she looks at him as if waiting for him to say something.

‘What?’ he asks, hoping that’s what she’s after.

‘The whole time he sounded like a grown man and not a boy, that’s what it was.’

He’d certainly sounded like a grown man in that toilet stall, fucking what is probably his long-term boyfriend. Ugh. It just makes him so— so— so— 

_Sad._

There’s a pause, he sips his tea, his mum sips hers, then she’s speaking again, ‘I’m thinking of staying in this weekend, maybe trying to get a glimpse of this boyfriend— what do you think? Want to join me?’ 

He tries to play it off as if he’s not interested, as if he doesn’t care— but he lets her “convince” him pretty easily— and, who knows, this boyfriend might not be the same slag— Nathan or whatever— that Simon was fucking in the loos— and if that’s so, and if Simon’s cheating on the guy then maybe— is he seriously thinking of trying to break up Simon and his boyfriend—?

Anyway, the weekend comes, Simon’s mum and his sister leave, and he and his mum lurk around with an eye on next door — _waiting._

Mid Saturday afternoon a van pulls up and three men get out. One is Simon, the others are a tall, skinny guy with a very pretty face and curly hair and the other is a bit shorter, a bit less skinny, a bit less good looking, with tattoos and short clipped hair. He kind of hopes Simon’s boyfriend is the latter— as far as he can see _he’s_ better looking than the latter. The curly haired guy though— as his mum and him peer out of the front window behind the lace curtains he sees Simon catch the curly haired boy around the waist and pull him into a deep kiss. Well. Fuck.

The other guy says something and the curly haired guy sticks his fingers up at him, before breaking away from Simon and pulling the short haired man into a side hug. They look kind of similar, actually— relatives of some kind. His mum gives him a _look,_ then leans forward very, very slowly and cracks the window open so they can hear. ‘—with the van, baby brother,’ the curly haired guy is saying. He flinches. He recognizes that voice, even if it’s lower pitched and not wailing for Simon’s spunk. That’s the slag from the loos— only the slag from the loos is really Simon’s _boyfriend._

‘As long as we get it back before dark, Lily’s uncle—’ the short haired man says in the tone of a man repeating something he’s repeated many times before.

‘Yeah, yeah—’ the curly haired guy dismisses with a wave of his hand, ‘You gonna stay out here and smoke or what?’

The short haired guy shrugs, ‘I’ll probably just text Lily— but do try to be quick, yeah?’

The curly haired guy agrees at the same time as Simon says that he doesn’t have that much stuff and he’s already packed most of it, so it won’t be long. Then him and the curly haired guy go inside the house. ‘He’s looking good, Simon,’ his mum whispers. It’s true, he does. Happy and healthy and confident— built too, he’s obviously been working out. He can probably fuck that skinny little slag upright against the wall— ‘Do you think we’d be able to hear anything from the back of the house? Simon’s bedroom is still back there, isn’t it?’

‘How would I know?’ he answers, but he still creeps upstairs with her into the guest room and tries listening to the wall— hearing muffled voices— before she goes and cracks that window too. They lurk near the wall near the window and listen, waiting to hear anything clearer.

They can’t make much out. He thinks he hears the slag saying something about how long it’s been since he’s been in Simon’s bedroom, and he’s sure he hears something about work experience starting once Simon’s community service is over when the slag comes over to Simon’s window and starts packing up that collection of Simon’s DVDs of his creepy, quiet filming of everything. 

He used to do that at school too— one time Simon actually invited him around to watch some video he’d done of the boys’ team playing cricket that season they’d been really, really good— and he’d agreed out of curiosity, gone round, actually sat in Simon’s room and watched it— and it was good, got all the highlights, was edited so there were no boring bits— and then he’d gone home and at school the next day told everyone Simon was a pervert that got off on filming guys when they weren’t aware of it. Cruel of him, on reflection.

Then things get muffled for a while, but _then_ , quite clearly and probably near the window again he hears the slag say something about how long it’s been since they’ve had somewhere they can “do it,” because of Simon’s mum being home all the time recently, but now they have their own place, their own shower, their own bed with their own rubber sheets— and then the slag’s voice gets— it gets throaty and soft and seductive, and the slag is saying something about trying it again where no own will walk in on them, and “would you like that Barry? All up inside me? _Marking me like that?_ ” and his mum is suddenly whispering, ‘That sounds proper dirty, whatever he’s talking about— though why’s he calling Simon “Barry”? Do you think they’ve got another bloke up there?’

He shakes his head. He’s heard the slag call Simon Barry before— but it’s not like he can admit that to his mum.

Then he hears Simon’s voice, ‘You don’t have to do that for me Nathan. We tried it once—’

‘And everyone walked in and ruined it,’ the slag whines, but then obviously moves away from the window because he can’t make out the rest of what’s said. That’s the last clear thing either of them hear— there’s plenty more muffled talking, but aside from the occasional word or two— obnoxiously “love” at least once from both of them— nothing’s clear.

Eventually— from the sounds and the silences— they must start taking whatever it is they’ve packed up down to the van, so his mum and him creep back downstairs into the front room to see what they can see and hear what they can hear. He kind of expects Simon to be doing all the work, the slag just following him around annoying him, but the guy’s carrying his own load of boxes and seems perfectly happy to do so. He’s hot. That’s the thing. Simon’s boyfriend is really, really hot. He looks like some thick lipped twink from a gangbang porno—

‘How did _Simon_ get a lad like that—?’ his mum muses from beside him, as if she was reading his mind. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, Simon’s not a bad looking lad—’ her face scrunches up, ‘It’s just— the personality, isn’t it? He’d odd, always has been— and that’s even before he decided to piss in our letterbox— and he’s short.’

He feels momentarily offended on Simon’s behalf, but he can’t say anything to make that obvious can he? What would his mum think—? ‘I’ve got no idea,’ is what he goes with. 

Outside he sees the slag has finished loading some boxes and is celebrating by cuddling Simon, hanging off his shoulders and whispering something in the other man’s ear that’s making his ex-friend’s eyes go very, very dark and what looks like a stiffy start forming in his trousers. His own cock throbs in response. 

‘Well—’ his mum says after a moment, and then there’s this horrible moment when he realizes that both himself and his mum are looking at his old friend’s trouser front. 

The moment is ruined by the other guy, the short haired one, telling them, ‘You’re not shagging in the van. You’ve got your own bed to do that in now.’

‘We could do it here one last time, for old time’s sake?’ the slag purrs at Simon.

‘I-I’ve packed the lube—’ Simon replies, looking disappointed.

The slag smirks, tongue flicking out over that plush bottom lip, ‘Don’t need it, do we?’

‘For fuck’s sake!’ the short haired guy snaps, ‘If you’re gonna shag it’s gotta be a quick one. Do it like you do in the bar’s loos.’

‘Be right back,’ the slag says, grabbing Simon by the wrist and dragging him inside. 

He looks at his mum, she looks at him— he knows they’re both deciding whether they want to go back upstairs to try and listen in on Simon shagging his boyfriend— No. No way— maybe if his mum wasn’t here— but since she is, ‘How about a cup of tea until they’re done?’ he suggests.

‘Good idea,’ she replies. 

They sit in the kitchen in awkward— awkwardness. His mind keeps going to next door, imagining Simon and his slag shagging in Simon’s narrow little bed, the slag moaning and whining, sounding like a girl— the way he had at the wine bar. He shifts a little, trying to ignore the stiffy forming in his jeans. Simon sounded like a good shag, the kind of guy that could take a girl— or guy, as the case may be— apart—

He isn’t envious. 

He isn’t.

Eventually his mum looks at him, ‘How long do you think a quick gay shag lasts?’

‘I’ve got no idea,’ he replies with a shrug.

‘Do you think we should go out there, say goodbye to him?’

‘Do you want to?’ he asks her. ‘I remember what you were like about him after you caught him—’ he stutters over the words, ‘p-p-pissing in the— the letterbox.’

Her face scrunches up. ‘I don’t know my opinion’s changed— I guess I’m just liking how much it’s getting up Her-next-door’s nose.’

‘Then we probably shouldn’t,’ he says. 

‘I suppose you’re right,’ she sighs. 

They finish their tea and creep back to the front room. The only one out there’s the short haired guy, leaning on the van and playing with his phone. There’s another awkward moment, him wondering if he should suggest another cuppa, when Simon and the slag emerge again, carrying more stuff. They’re both red of the lips and the slag’s walking funny, love bites sucked across his jaw line. 

‘Is that it?’ the short haired guy asks, glancing at the stuff in their arms. 

‘One more load,’ Simon replies. 

‘You need a hand?’ the short haired guy asks.

Simon declines, him and his boyfriend disappearing inside only to reappear a few minutes later, the last of Simon’s possessions in hand. The pack the stuff into the van then Simon goes back to the front door, locks it, then hesitates— a moment later he sees his ex-friend lean down and push the keys he just used through the letterbox. 

‘You ready to go, Barry?’ the slag calls from beside the van.

Simon glances one last time at the house, then turns around and walks over to is boyfriend, pulling the man into a kiss. ‘Yes. Let’s get out of here.’

His mum and him watch as all three pile into the van and the van pulls away—

His mum makes a small noise and he looks over to her, startling when he sees she’s tearing up. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Oh, it’s just— I only just realised I’ve known him ever since he was a baby and now he’s moved out. Time passes, I guess.’

He glances back out the window to where the van no longer is. ‘I guess it does, at that.’


End file.
